


Leather and Lace

by trulywicked



Series: Tease [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Collar, Dirty Talk, High Heels, Lace, Leather, Leather Trousers, Leather gloves, M/M, Male Slash, Oral Sex, Teasing, UST, boot kink, possible ooc, smidge of neck kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-14
Updated: 2013-11-14
Packaged: 2018-01-01 11:26:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1044276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trulywicked/pseuds/trulywicked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was like Stiles turned eighteen and decided it was time for an all out assault on Derek’s sanity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leather and Lace

**Author's Note:**

> This is SHAMELESS self indulgence. Absolutely shameless. I have a major thing for boots and leather. And I decided that Stiles needed to seduce Derek through articles of clothing. 
> 
> WARNING: Pay attention to the tags. There is oral sex and a little dirty talk and basically driving Derek to finally snap and pounce on Stiles.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own or have any claim on Teen Wolf nor any locations or characters thereof. I get only personal satisfaction from writing this fic.

It started with the gloves. They were innocent really. Not anything that would have raised a hair from the average person on the street. But then the average person on the street didn’t have a werewolf’s sense of smell.

The gloves, smooth, black leather with just the slightest sheen, positively _reeked_ of come, sweat, and Stiles. Anyone who could smell it was left in no doubt that Stiles used those gloves to jack himself off.

Erica had gotten a predatory smirk on her face while the rest of the male werewolves in the pack had looked a little ill. And Derek had been left fighting not to picture Stiles wrapping his long, elegant, leather clad fingers around his cock and stroking until the leather was decorated with pearly drops of come.

He’d lost that fight when he’d been alone in his own bathroom, jerking himself to the image while taking a shower.

The next morning he’d been unable to look at Stiles and from the smirk on the eighteen year old’s face, the little shit knew why.

\-----------------------

After that had been the pants.

Dear God those pants.

Leather again but dyed a deep burgundy, they’d clung lovingly to Stiles’ long legs and round little ass. Stiles had worn them on a stake out of the Jungle for a succubus and had gone out onto the dance floor with them on. And Derek had nearly swallowed his tongue watching those hips move in the tight leather.

They caught the succubus when she made a move on Stiles and Derek had needed a cold shower after he’d gotten home.

\---------------------------------

The next time they’d needed to dive into the lake to steal a kelpie’s bridle and Stiles had stripped to his underwear so he’d have dry clothes when he surfaced.

His goddamned _lacy_ underwear.

Black, scalloped edged, lacy panties that stood out on the pale skin and made Derek want to trail his tongue along the edges until Stiles was begging him for more.

Derek hadn’t even known they made that kind of underwear specifically to fit men but it was obviously made to accommodate the cock rather than hide it. But considering it had a panel of red lace that lovingly cupped Stiles cock and balls, standing out from the black, obviously they of the underwear industry _did_

It was a damned good thing the lake water had been cold because coming out of there, watching Stiles’ lace panties turn fucking transparent while wet would have sparked a rather large problem otherwise. And no one was in any condition to do anything but go home and get warm after that dive.

\---------------------------------------

Then had come Halloween. 

Derek was still trying to find a way to murder the person who came up with the idea to have a costume party.

Because Stiles had come in a head to toe, black leather cat suit, sporting a whip and cat eared cowl mask accessories. He’d gotten astoundingly drunk and looped the whip around Derek’s neck so he could dance up against him without Derek fleeing. It had resulted in the worst case of blue balls of Derek’s life when Stiles had passed out in his arms.

He’d carried him home, endured the knowing and amused looks the Sheriff tossed his way, then gone back to his own home to have an embarrassingly short masturbation session.

\----------------------------------------

The Christmas party had been a disaster, for several reasons.

The red lace shirt had only been one of them.

It hadn’t even been obscenely see through, which would have made it _less_ sexy ironically. Instead it had been teasing, offering glimpses of the delicious, narrow torso and broad shoulders, the smattering of moles almost completely concealed beneath the concentrated patterns occasionally flashed as Stiles had moved around the room, danced with Erica, which was a study in seduction all its own, and wiggled in place the way he was wont to do. Since Stiles had started torturing him he’d had more than a few fantasies about those moles and how they’d feel under his mouth so it was maddening. 

And dear God help him was that _metal_ on Stiles’ nipples? Were they pierced?

He was almost grateful for the attacking evil elves, if only because it gave him something else to concentrate on and he didn’t end the night spanking the monkey.

\-----------------------------------------------------

The collar drove him to drink. Literally, he downed the wolfsbane punch Lydia so wonderfully remembered the recipe for.

Black leather, he was starting to think black leather was Stiles’ favorite material, simple, with just a ring at the center that would be perfect to hook his finger through and yank the little bastard close. It wasn’t very wide, an inch at most, and circled that long neck just under the adam’s apple, and it made Derek want to _bite_.

He’d already had a thing for Stiles’ neck, the long column, the way the throat and sides were nothing but pale skin, no moles to be seen, but there was one right at the nape, that the goddamn collar hid. He was a werewolf and he’d probably had imagined that throat being bared to him a thousand times for various reasons. 

It wasn’t really a question of dominance or submission anymore, not as it had been in the beginning when he’d just wanted the little shit to roll over and do as he said. No, now it was all about vulnerability and the desire to be trusted by Stiles that much. 

And that fucking collar was rubbing his face in the fact that Stiles had never bared his throat to him. It called his attention and every instinct to the smooth expanse and by the time he was able to get away his wolf had nearly been clawing at him despite the shot of liquor.

He’d gone for a long, _long_ run to get out his frustrations and ended the night howling to the moon for something he wasn’t sure he’d ever have.

\----------------------------------

But it was the boots that broke him at last.

Once again black leather, thigh high, with the edge of lace peeking out from under them, they slicked down Stiles’ legs, made them look a mile long with the sharp, thin high heels. He wore them with a pair of black short shorts, only a thin strip of skin visible between hem and top of the lace stockings just peeking up over the edge of the boots. And it was the last straw.

Derek made a sound that was somewhere between a roar and a howl and lunged, slamming his mouth over Stiles and reveling in the squeak it got out of the younger man before Stiles got with the program and slender fingers were spearing through his hair. He was vaguely aware of the rest of the pack disappearing as Stiles made a little hop and wrapped those leather clad legs around his hips.

He growled and ran his hands over Stiles’ thighs, from leather to lace to flesh, “If you don’t want to be naked in the next ten seconds say it now.”

“Ten seconds? It’ll take that long?” It was panted against his lips.

It took five, his claws shredding the shorts away as Stiles wrestled out of his shirt, and then he was bearing Stiles down onto his bed, pausing only to strip his own shirt off. He pulled Stiles’ legs in their leather boots over his shoulders, slid his hands over the taut skin of his hips, up over the well toned abs, to flick the nipples that were indeed pierced.

The sound that Stiles made, coupled with the way his body arched and his head fell back, exposing his throat has a possessive, hungry growl vibrating in Derek’s chest. 

“I’m going to suck you off and then I’m going to spend _hours_ taking you apart and making you scream my name until you’re begging to come again for the _hell_ you’ve been putting me through.” He grinned ferally at the helpless moan Stiles made.

“Not my fault you didn’t jump on it sooner. I thought for sure the collar would- HOLY GOD!”

Derek just hummed around the mouthful of cock as Stiles’ thighs tightened around his neck. He stroked back down Stiles’ side and set his hands on his hips, holding him in place. He bobbed his head up and down the shaft, paused to lick at the tip, rub his lips over the glans, then swallowed Stiles down again. All the way to the base, his throat working around Stiles’ cock as he reveled in the sharp cries it drew from him.

He hummed, and worked his mouth on Stiles’ cock, gloating internally at the sharp points of pain in his back as Stiles dug his heels in. He reached up and flicked a pierced nipple and growled and was rewarded with a wild, pleasured scream and bitter salt filling his mouth. He swallowed as much of Stiles’ come down as he could, though a little escaped to dribble out the corner of his mouth into his stubble, until the heels were no longer pressing hard against his skin as Stiles went bonelessly limp.

He slid up the younger man’s body, licking at his throat then sucking a bright, vivid mark over his pulse before claiming Stiles’ mouth in a kiss. “Don’t get too comfortable.”

“Mmm? Why’s that?”

He made a pleased rumble when Stiles’ tongue lapped at his chin, cleaning the come away, “Because I meant it. I’m going to drive you crazy until I fuck you, and I’m going to do it while you’re wearing those boots.” The groan Stiles made had him feeling only a little vindicated. He had several months of frustrations with leather and lace to express after all.

**Author's Note:**

> My headcanon for the gloves is that Stiles saw Derek wearing the pair he had to protect him from the kanima venom and got hot over it and so got himself a pair and jacked off, imagining Derek's hand instead of his.
> 
> The lace underwear [comes from here only in red and black instead of plum and black.](https://xdress.com/product/view/bold-lace-boy-brief-z293)
> 
> And the [shirt](http://i01.i.aliimg.com/wsphoto/v1/1081279431_1/FREE-SHIPPING-font-b-Lace-b-font-Chiffon-material-half-sleeve-long-sleeved-font-b-shirt.jpg), just make it red.


End file.
